Fingers and Toes
by ScottyFTW
Summary: Damn it, Bartowski. I dunno what it is, but there's somethin' about you that makes everyone fall in love with you. Somethin' that ends up with us wrapped around your stupid little finger, and you don't have a damn clue. Chuck/Everyone.


**Fingers and Toes**

_**Damn it, Bartowski. I dunno what it is, but there's somethin' about you that makes everyone fall in love with you. Somethin' that ends up with us wrapped around your stupid little finger, and you don't have a damn clue. Chuck/Everyone.**_

**So I was reading something the other day, and I came across a sort of discussion about "Chuck" that veered off into the direction of how Chuck and Sarah may be the official couple of the show and have great chemistry, Chuck also has an insane amount of chemistry with other characters as well, including a lot of males. And someone said that the show suddenly makes a lot more sense if you just assume that everyone, male or female, is in love with Chuck.**

**And I just fucking RAAAN WITH IT. So yeah. Here you go. Casey musing on how Chuck has got his own little harem, unbeknownst to him, of course.**

**(I disclaim all rights to "Chuck")**

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Damn it, Bartowski. I dunno what it is, but there's somethin' about you that makes everyone fall in love with you.

Scratch that. "Fall" isn't the right word. Not for everyone. Walker's the lucky one; she's the one who fell and was all too happy not to pull her chute. Some of us were up in that plane shaking our heads and going, "It's a damn shame, I thought Walker was smarter than that," and then suddenly the plane hit some turbulence and we toppled out. Don't get me wrong, I pulled my chute like a pro, but clearly someone poked some big-ass holes in it when I was figuring out what Walker saw in you.

It's a stupid metaphor, and overly long, but it gets my point across. It's all your fault, Bartowski. What the hell is it with you? There's just somethin' about you that ends up with every single one of us wrapped around your stupid little finger, and you don't have a damn clue.

Spies aren't supposed to have feelings. Especially not love. But of course you're Chuck Bartowski, the master of upending every single goddamn rule the government _has. _Whatever it is that makes everyone jump through hoops at your slightest whimper to protect you, you've had it much longer than you've had the Intersect.

Just look at Grimes. Good _God_, Grimes. Been your best friend since the two of you were five. You're going on thirty, now, and I'm willing to bet he's loved you for at least fifteen. And you don't even know, do you? I guess it doesn't really matter. He's probably long since accepted that you'll never know, and he's probably okay with that. He's a hopeless, pathetic geek, but he's well adjusted. I'll give him that. He's a good friend. He'll watch you love Sarah and he'll smile, and he'll chase skirts he doesn't have a chance with, and he'll be okay.

I guess I have that in common with the little elf. Just 'cause we love you and you'll always love Sarah doesn't mean we suffer. I mean, just look at you. Considering all you've gone through, pretty much just knowing you've got a hope spot somewhere is fine for us.

And there's Bryce Larkin. Jesus Christ, Bryce Larkin. Just goes to show how even long before you got the Intersect stuck in your brain, before you needed constant protection, before we got to watch you turn into an agent yourself, you had that ridiculous, inconvenient..._thing_ about you. Back when you awkward, nerdy, limp-noodle Chuck Bartowski was all there was to you, _Bryce-fucking-Larkin_ was scrambling to keep you out of the spy life. Even without the Intersect, Bartowski, I won't deny that you could've been a damn good analyst. Useful. But Bryce wouldn't have it. He wouldn't have someone as soft and vulnerable and _good_ as you anywhere near the spy life. He knew what it would mean. Danger. Death. Red tests. You only _think _Walker's the only spy out there who would've given _anything _for you not to have to kill someone, knowing what that would do to you. He knew it wouldn't happen, but Bryce wanted you _safe_.

I killed him for that. Kind of. Thought I had. I kind of hate myself for that. Not because I wanted you in this life, because hell, you were gonna be in it one way or another. I dunno. Just kinda feels like going against raw instinct, these days, to want to kill anyone who only wants what's best for you.

Remember Lou? And Hannah? There was something sort of sickly, twistedly amusing about seeing them stare up at you, all big-eyed and hopeful and waiting for a kiss, and sometimes they'd get one, but I knew in the end you'd always go back to Walker. We're all magnets for you, but I guess Walker's lucky enough to be the stronger one, the one that'll cling to you like we do but only you'll right back to her. And when that happens, sometimes I sit back and wonder if that Jill is gonna come waltzing back in, and I compare magnets.

Do you even want to know about Jeff and Lester? It's gross. Be thankful, Bartowski, that most of that is hero worship and creepy puppy love. They probably bond over you, which is a thousand times worse. It's disturbing to know that I still see what they see, only through decidedly less stalker-ish and pathetic eyes.

Not exactly a heartbreaker, God no, but I'm pretty sure when you were in high school nobody voted you Most Likely to be a Living Aphrodisiac. You're a walking disaster, Bartowski. You're lucky we don't seem to be the jealous type. I guess we can all just thank Walker for starting this whole mess, because when she smiles, you smile, and I guess that's when we all fall out of the airplane again.

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**HAHAHAHA I fail at life. OOC but I don't care. I just reeeally need to get laid. It's been a while. Sigh.**

**I need sleep. Bye.  
**


End file.
